Love & Lies in a Simple Journal
by Kari the Russki
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is just a normal boy. He then receives a journal, and as soon enough, he starts writing every detail about his life. Even those romantic ones. By romantic details, Arthur finds an enemy that becomes his lover in the future, but another enemy comes back that also becomes Arthur's lover, which forms a very difficult love triangle.
1. Prologue

Before any of you say I stole this story, I am Hetalia11Fanatic.

I lost the email/password for the account so I had to make a new one.

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I do not own Hetalia or the characters, they belong to the creator.

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Prologue

**Arthur Kirkland - Point of View**

**[Diary Entry]**

_Day One, July 28_

We were at my house. My somewhat modern, two-story house. It has portraits of our ancestors, who were apparently well known. By 'our', I mean my family. My family is very bizarre in my opinion, but like anyone cares, if that's for sure.

My name is Arthur Kirkland. I am of British descent, and also two of my sibling, but one of them are just alone. Apparently they were adopted, which I got upset at my parents for because they adopted such, abnoxious children.

They would call me abnoxious back, on the other hand. The oldest one, Scotland, as so my mother would name him, _hated_ me. He always seemed to bully me ever since he was adopted into my family. His name is Scotland because he told my parents that he was never named, and he only told him where he was born.

Next one is Wales. He is apparently the second oldest. Wales can be quiet around me and my parents, but if he was ever in public, he'd start strangling me until someone actually notices. He's more of an attention seeker, in my opinion. Then again, he has no name like Scotland.

The third oldest is Ireland. He usually cried a lot, and hated being seen with me around his friends. We never actually got together as brothers, but my father told us that we soon will be. I don't clearly understand him, as I thought he would have red hair like most Irish people. He apparently has dark brown hair with a good-looking complexion. He had a small amount of freckles, but he seemed okay if he wasn't crying all the time.

My mother was calling for dinner. She has blonde hair like me, and blue eyes. She would always wait for another child who would have her eyes, because she never had a chance to, as I have my father's eyes. Mum, as I call her, and the only one who calls her that, has said at least once that she was very feminine as a teenager, but she still is sometimes.

Father, as I call him, was strong. He is very intelligent, and as a kid, he took everything seriously, and he still does that. A lot of women liked him and approached him if my mother wasn't next to him, since he always forgot to wear his wedding ring. He never got mad at us kids, but if it was necessary, then yes, he would get mad. My father apparently got mad at Ireland once for getting low grades in school, and made him quit playing American video games our cousin gets for us every year, for a whole month.

Now today, was crazy for me. My mother was calling us for dinner, and Wales and Ireland ran to the table. Scotland was walking slow, because he never got enough sleep last night. I spent my whole day writing in this journal Mum gave me yesterday. I once said that journals were like diaries, and that diaries are for girls, but I regretted it when I starts writing in this.

My brothers always forget how old I am, and think I'm only nine years old, since I'm a little short for my age. I'm only eleven, and I'm starting secondary school. Wales, Ireland, and Scotland are with me in school. Ire on his 2nd year, Wales on his 4th, and Scot at his last year.

Such lucky twits.

* * *

**Non Journal**

Arthur stopped writing and put his pen, that has a small unicorn on it, on the coffee table.

"Hey, what is that?" Scotland says, grabbing Arthur's journal. "Hah, you write in a diary?"

"It's a _journal_," Arthur replies, trying to grab it from Scotland. "And don't even try to say journals are for girls."

"I know," Scotland says. "But you're too old to write in one of those."

"Mum wants me to write in it, and fill it," Arthur said, glaring at Scotland.

"Whatever," Scotland replied and throws the journal at Arthur's face, and leaves the couch.

Arthur approached the dinner table, sitting next to Scotland and grabbed the plate of scones. His father is reading a paper, and Arthur was curious about it. What was he reading?

"Arthur," His father said and looked at him.

"Yes?" Arthur said after he took a bit out of his scone.

"I have a letter from the school you're attending," Mr. Kirkland said as he gave Arthur the paper.

Arthur started reading it. "New people in my class?"

"Yes," Mr. Kirkland said. "One of them is very interesting."

The person he was talking about, Arthur froze. The new person was a transfer student from America. It stated that his name was Alfred F. Jones, and had messy blonde hair and glasses. Arthur started imagining what it would be like to meet him, since he has never met a real American in his whole entire life.

The letter also stated when school started. '_In two weeks?!' _Arthur thought.

"In two weeks your child will be starting school. Good luck!," Scotland read on the paper.

"Oh my," Arthur said, and ran upstairs, everyone else unaware why.

Arthur ran to his room and sat on his bed.

"Do I really start school in two weeks?" Arthur said to himself.

"Yes," Flying Mint Bunny said, one of Arthur's imaginary friends since he was seven.

"Another thing, am I really going to meet an American?" Arthur asked Flying Mint Bunny.

"Sure thing," Flying Mint Bunny. "After all, it was your wish."

Maybe today wasn't that bad. I'm meeting an American boy in two weeks. What could possibly happen?


	2. First Day PART ONE

Chapter One

**Arthur Kirkland - Point of View**

**[Diary Entry #2]**

_Day Two, August 12, 4:05_ PM

It's been a long time since I've written in this diary. Scotland took my diary on the remaining days until school. So many things to write today!

I just started middle school. It starts at 8 AM and I came there a little too early, more like 7:45 AM. There was no sign of that American boy anywhere, so I just sat on a bench. I saw other kids walking to the school, the kids looking older and more popular than me. One of them threw a paper ball at my face, which gave myself a paper cut.

"Vy you sittin' zere?" The person said, having slick blonde hair and blue eyes. "Ludwig Beilschmidt clearly doesn't like loners."

'_Great_', I thought. First thing I know a kid throws something at me.

With myself wasting 30 minutes on the bench, kids were walking past me, holding their schoolbags and books. I think school just started.

A person in the middle of the campus was giving out what looked like schedules, and I got one from her. The letter from two weeks ago said my room would be Room 2 A, so I tried to find Rm. 2 A on the map and headed the direction to the room.

I bumped into some people, one of them pushing me and making me fall. I picked up my books and one kid stepped on my schedule. What a bad day.

I reached Room 2 A, and the whole was there but me. The room was somewhat large, with bizarre posters on the wall. A kid pointed to me desk and I walked quickly to my seat. I knew this was my room, but I couldn't find that American kid anywhere. I looked around, trying to find him. No luck.

"Hello," the teacher said. The teacher was a woman, a very pretty woman with brunette hair, but she looked serious. "Can you please tell us your name?"

I looked at the teacher. "Arthur Kirkland," I said quietly.

"Would you like to tell something about yourself?" she asked.

"Um," I said, lost for words.

"Before you start, I am Mrs. Toulson," Mrs. Toulson said. "I teach History class here at McFarlane Middle School. You may continue, Mr. Kirkland."

"I...," I said, still timid for words. "I own a journal?"

Some kids started laughing, and I turned tomato red.

"Be quiet!" Mrs. Toulson said. "Having a journal is nice because you can obviously recount your memories from the past, so I wouldn't be laughing."

I slightly turned back to his normal skin color. Really?

"Now, I will pass out your History text books," Mrs. Toulson said, passing out the text books. "You will turn to page 34."

When I got his, a kid next to him started whispering to me.

"You own a journal?" he asked, slightly surprised.

"Yeah, I mean-," I said, but this kid stopped him.

"Don't feel bad, I do too," he said. "My name's Gilbert Beilschmidt, nice to meet you."

"I'm Arthur Kirkland," Iwhispered.

"I know zat already," he whispered back.

"Sorry," Arthur said, then turned back to his book.

Then history class went on. I met a new journal friend called Gilbert Beilschmidt. But why did his name sound so familiar? More like last name.

It was break time. I was sitting with Gilbert and we were talking about being 'journal buddies'. I hadn't really agreed on it yet, but it's an okay idea I guess.

Then a kid who had blonde hair and blue eyes with glasses looked at us.

"Hey dude," He said. "You look like a loser!" The kid threw a spitball at me and I wiped it away.

"I do not," I replied back, glaring at him.

"There's something wrong with your eyebrows," the kid said. "Are you growing a squirrel on your forehead?"

"No!" I replied angrily, and I tackled him, and he tackled me back.

Then a person who was apprently Ireland stopped the two of us.

"STOP!" Ireland said, pulling my ear and the kid's ear.

"Ow," I said, wincing.

"Dude, knock it off," the kid said, scratching Ireland's arm to get him out of his hold.

The bell for break time sounded. It was time for maths class. I walked to Room 3 F. The kid was following me for some strange reason.

"Why are you following me?!" I asked him.

"I'm going to math class too," He replied.

"It's 'maths' class!" I argued.

"You're British, so we have different customs," He said, and walked faster.

I looked at him. Was he not British or...

I sat in my seat, and the teacher asked the kid to go up in front of the class.

"Hello, my name is Mr. Alden, and we have a transfer student," Mr. Alden said, placing his hands on the kid. He had bony fingers and he looked like he was in his 40's, mainly because he looked like he was losing hair.

I looked closer. Was he-

"Hi!" He said. "I'm Alfred F. Jones from America!"

Holy Crapola. It was the transfer student. I never realized it. How could I not?

"I just fought with that kid," Alfred said, pointing at me, and I turned tomato red again.

"Arthur Kirkland?" a girl asked, and Alfred nodded.

"He says he doesn't look like a loser, he really does!" Alfred said, and some kids were laughing with him.

I put my head down, trying to hold back tears. I thought Americans were nice, but this was the complete opposite. I was known to be sensitive, as stated from my parents, while Scotland always tells me to grow up. Sometimes I refuse to, because I want to live a good life in my childhood before I turn into a teenager.

"Arthur, are you okay?" the girl asked me, and I looked at her.

"No," I replied.

"Sorry for disturbing you," she said. "My name is Elizabeta Héderváry."

"Okay," I said with no interest, and she left.

I _hated_ that American boy. Why was I so interested to meet him in the first place?


	3. First Day, is the Worst Day PART TWO

Chapter Two

**[No One's] - Point of View**

Arthur got home, ignoring his parents and went upstairs. He was still upset about Alfred and what happened at school. Wales followed him upstairs, but stopped when Arthur locked the door.

"Arthur I want to talk to you," Wales said, knocking on his door.

"Go away!" Arthur replied, putting his head on the pillow as he layed down on his bed.

"I just want to talk to you," Wales said, getting a lock and opening Arthur's door.

"I don't," Arthur said, and hugged his stuffed unicorn.

"Dude," Wales said, and now sitting on Arthur's bed. "What's wrong?"

"It's about my first day," Arthur replied.

Wales stared at him. "What about it?"

"That American kid, Alfred," Arthur continued. "I usually thought all Americans were nice, but noooo!"

"You can't trust people of their personality by their facial expression," Wales said. "Stop being a baby and ignore that kid if you have to."

"What if he still bugs me?" Arthur asked him, looking into Wales's eyes. He looked back.

"Give him a good punch in the face, if that's for sure!" Wales yelled, getting up and opening the bedroom door. Arthur nodded and looked at the ceiling while laying down. Wales was right, he really should ignore him, or beat him up.

But no! He would be in trouble, he _hated_ being trouble whatsoever, even with other people. Arthur couldn't possibly beat Alfred up. If so...

Arthur walked out of his room and sat on the floor. He was thinking for a moment, then his so called "imaginary" friend came along. Flying Mint Bunny was flying around him, and Arthur tickled his/her [he possibly can't tell the gender] stomach.

"How are you, pupsik?" Arthur asked. He knew the word "pupsik" in Russian meant "cutie" in English, as a friend of Arthur named Ivan Braginski taught him, before he moved away back to Russia.

He then stopped, as the flying mint bunny also stopped. When he mentioned the Russian word, he started thinking about Ivan Braginski, the kid who was bigger than the other children and wore a scarf all the time. He usually hurt the younger kids before Arthur met Alfred, including Arthur, himself...

_It was a snowy day. Children were hitting each other with snowballs and making snowmen. Arthur was laying down on the soft, white, snow, making snow angels. His so called friend named Francis Bonnefoy who was from France, _(who had seperated with him a few years after)_ then poked Arthur._

_"Arthur," Francis said._

_"Huh?" Arthur, the seven year old, said._

_"Look over zere," Francis said, and pointed in a certain direction._

_"W-who's that?" Arthur asked him._

_"It's the boy you're always scared of," Francis replied, and Arthur got up immediately._

_"Ivan Braginski?" Arthur asked._

_"Yes," Francis said. "But I don't want him to destroy my perfectly beautiful face, so bye!" And Francis ran off._

_"Wait!" Arthur yelled, but Ivan started approaching him as other children ran away from him._

_"You will become one with Mother Russia, da?" Ivan said to Arthur, looking very horrifying._

_"N-n-no!" Arthur yelled again._

_"Why?" Ivan asked. "Why, a stupid little kid, must disagree on becoming one with Mother Russia?"_

_Arthur backed away from him. He was too scared to even reply. Ivan grabbed a faucet pipe and a pickaxe and showed them to Arthur._

_"Which hurts more?" Ivan asks him. "Faucet pipe or pickaxe?"_

_"B-b-b-both," Arthur muttered, and Russia grinned cheerfully._

_"Pickaxe it is!" Ivan said, and aimed at Arthur's chest._

_"N-N-N-NOOOO!" Arthur yelled._

_A sharp pain hit Arthur. Arthur fell to the ground and he touched what seemed to be a wound. It started trickling of blood, and Arthur could see Ivan still grinning cheerfully, then all he could see was nothing. Nothing... nothing... nothing... at all..._

"I'm fine!" The flying mint bunny responded after silence, and sitting on Arthur's head, and Arthur started shaking.

Arthur looked at the flying mint bunny sadly, and rubbed his chest. He could still feel the wound from his light sweater.

"Why looking gloom all of a sudden?" Flying Mint Bunny asked Arthur.

"Public issues," Arthur replied, and heard his mother calling his name.

"Arthur!" Mrs. Kirkland said. "I want to talk to you!"

Arthur walked downstairs, Flying Mint Bunny following him, then disappeared. his mother had a stern look stuck to her face as he was walking up to her.

"Arthur, I know what happened in school today, but it's not too bad," She said, and set Arthur on the couch.

"Not too bad?" Arthur asked. "Mum, I was completely embarassed!"

"You'll get over it soon," Mrs. Kirkland said. "Now eat up, I don't want you to eat those scones at midnight."

Arthur nodded, and he sat at the dinner table. Ireland was stuffing all the food he could ever fit in his mouth, Arthur looked at him, disgusted.

"Wha?" Ireland asked with the food in his mouth, and Arthur's head fell in his bowl. A bowl full of soup, and Arthur sighed as Scotland tried to hold a straight face in front of him.

That following night, Arthur's father had got the hairdryer and forced Arthur into the bathroom, drying his hair that was soaked in soup.


	4. Friendship

**Author's Note**

I am _very_ sorry for the slow updating. I have to write down what happens in the story, brainstorm, take side-notes on the sentences, and I have a lot of events during the summer, I am very sorry.

I'm also very sorry for this chapter being short..

Forgive me please. ._.

...

**Fact** ~ I may write about Sealand/Peter either next chapter or a few chapters later. Yay :D

[line]

Chapter Three

**[Arthur Kirkland - Point of View]**

_Day Three, August 13_

Apparently my mother said to go talk about Alfred about yesterday. I didn't feel like doing that because he'd probably just say how stupid I am. Scotland told me not to worry, and then he slapped my face after he told me that.

I remembered yesterday how I thought about that kid Ivan Braginski. His pickaxe was pretty dull, so it didn't potentially kill me. I know he went back to Russia, but I wondered how that [erased] changed.

Every single kid was scared of him. Even the teachers. One teacher ran out when Ivan tried to answer a question, which didn't make sense. It's been a long time since I've ever seen him, and now I have some feeling wanting to see him again. It was just plain weird.

Anyways, I-[erased]-

Oh God.

I have writer's block.

Darn, I'm going to write when I get to school.

[line]

Sorry for not finishing, writer's block hurts.

Anyways! I'm just sitting on a bench again. Some kid knocked over my journal and I somewhat cursed at them in Russian. They then called me a "loser" and I went back to writing. I had second thoughts about talking to Alfred, but I thought that was too crazy. He's not the brightest for an 11 year old, and always blabbered about hamburgers and other things that are stupid.

I saw Alfred walking in the entrance, and I only saw the back of his head, as he passed by me. He was walking very slow, and then he bumped into a pole and fell down. I sort of felt bad for him, so I ran up to him, leaving my stuff on the bench.

"Are you okay?" I asked him while getting him up. I then realized I was blushing slightly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Alfred replied in a boring way, and I faced him.

I stared at him. There was something wrong, well, he looked pretty bored today, but other than that.

Wait.

Where the crap are his glasses?

I wanted to ask him, but then I thought it was some "personal business", so then I decided not to. He looked kind of cute without the glasses- [erased]

Why did I put that?! I'm not into him, I swear. I _don't_ have feelings for Alfred, not at all. Don't even think that I do. It's not happening.

Scotland says that if I fall in love with a boy, he'll take me on the base of Sealand, and throw me off the edge.

Anyways, I feel like asking him. Whether it's personal or not.

"Alfred..," I trailed off.

"Yeah?" Alfred asked.

"Where are your glasses?" I asked, slightly blushing.

"Oh, my glasses...," Alfred replied, and I felt like an idiot.

"Well?" I asked him, and immediately turned my head around, because I was too embarassed to face him.

"I broke my glasses the other day, and now that I did that I can't see very well," Alfred muttered, and I seemed to get every word of it.

"I see," I muttered too, and put my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and I saw a tint of blush on his cheeks.

Alfred then looked away. "A-anyways..."

I looked away also. "Yeah.. anyways..."

"Why don't we get to class?" Alfred asked.

"Sure." I replied.

We both walked to class. We both smiled at each other. Nothing was wrong at all.

Except we didn't realize we were both holding hands.

This was the starting how we becaome really good friends.


	5. Special Announcement

**Chapter Four**

**[Arthur Kirkland's Point of View]**

_Day Four, August 14_

I'm back home from school! Finally, no more writer's block with all the stuff happening.

Alfred and I sat next to each other during class, and he apparently took my quiz and used it to finish since he was pretty behind.

We even sat next to each other at lunch. He got a hamburger, some soda, and a bag of chips. Nothing healthy, I guess.

At break, we played football. But as Alfred calls it, "soccer". We both then argued whether it was "football" or "soccer" but that arguement ended pretty quickly.

I was thinking about asking him come visit me sometime. Honestly, I'm afraid of him saying "no", but after what we did today, I guess it'll be a positive answer.

But I wasn't thinking it in a romantic way! I already told you, I'm not into Alfred. We're just good friends.

Maybe I d-

**[Non-Journal]**

"Arthur! I'd like to talk to you!" Mrs. Kirkland yelled from downstairs.

**[Journal]**

I'll be right back.

**[Non-Journal]**

Arthur closed his journal and hid it under the bed. He then walked downstairs and saw his father cooking of what he thinks is fish and chips.

"Artie! I have great news!" His mother said to him.

"Alfred coming to our house?!" I asked eagerly.

"Who's Alfred? Your love interest?" Ireland asked, and Wales cooed at him.

Arthur blushed intensely. "N-no."

Their mother glared at them and turned back to Arthur. "I'm thinking about getting a new addition to our family. And yes, again."

He stood there dumbstruck. "W-what?"

"Your father and I are getting a new child, we're adopting one who was born here in England," She replied, smiling at Arthur.

"What's the kid's name?" Arthur asked.

"His name is Peter, hopefully we'll be able to pick him up soon. You're going to come with us after school tomorrow," His father said while preparing the table.

"Why?" Arthur asked while looking at his father.

"So you can see the child first, well, other than us," His mother replied.

"Why don't we get to see him?" Scotland said as he walked down the stairs, his hands full of books.

"Mum's afraid that you'll almost dropped him like you did with Arthur," Ireland replied to him.

Arthur's head was full of confusion. '_Scotland almost dropped me?!_'

"Look, at least he didn't fall, okay? But again, he's so stupid it's like if I actually dropped him," Scotland said, dropping the pile of books on the couch.

"Please stop talking about that, I'm starting to have nightmares about if he actually fell," Wales said.

"So hang on, you actually like that yankee?" Scotland asked. "Do you like this?" He then dropped a book on his foot.

"Stop that, you wanker, do you like this?" Wales then dropped a vase on his foot. Unlucky for ol' Scot, he was barefoot. His foot started bleeding from the glass, and he started cursing very loudly and dropped to the ground while clutching to his bloody foot.

"I'm going to get the bandages," Mum said as she ran to the bathroom.

While Scotland was cursing his whole soul, Ireland was covering Arthur's ears.

Arthur sighed. '_It's not like I'll ever curse like that- HOLY SH-!'_

Scotland removed his hand and there was a kind of large gap in his foot, with a few large and small pieces of glass in it.

"Stay still! I'll get them out!" Mum was pulling every single piece out and into a small tin.

She then wrapped around a bandage and Scotland stood up. He glared at Wales and stomped up back the stairs.

"Time for dinner..?" Their dad said, holding one of the plates.

"I guess so," Arthur muttered.

**[ Author's Note ]**

**I am so sorry for this chapter being so short! I'm really busy, so this was all I could do.**

**Sealand will be appearing in the second chapter!**

**Also, a little hint, Alfred will also go to Arthur's house, doing some "things"... ohonhon~**

**..Just Kidding!**

**But they will do some things.**

**By the way, the next chapter is going to be [kind of] inspired by one of the chapters of "American dreams in an English village" by ButterFish. Read the story! It's really good!**

**Da-svedaniya~**

romanized Russian what am I doing


	6. Coming Over PART ONE

**Chapter Five**

**(Author's Note)**

***Hey! So I'm starting out on a new writing style, so you may see this chapter and the rest more different than the early chapter, but that's okay! I'm just starting to realize that my chapters are getting shorter, so for this chapter it will probably be longer than usual.***

**Also mentioning the ** in the rest of the chapters, in the end I will tell information about it. (About that word... I need to be specific..)**

**This chapter is also historically incorrect, since England was just a small nation and (SPOILER) Alexander Rybak is mentioned... he wasn't even born... including some other nations who were probably not around when England was small (but I may be wrong), and also- I NEED STOP SPOILING!**

**[ Journal - Arthur Kirkland's Point of View ]**

_Day Five, August 15_

It's Arthur here! Yes, I'm getting a new brother. _How sweet._

Apparently I'm starting to realize the reason why people are making fun of me.

...

They're making fun of my _eyebrows._

Yes, my eyebrows. Have a problem with that? I sure hope you don't.

They'd call me "wanker" or "Alexander Rybak" (I don't understand, I don't even look like that Eurovision winner!) or other names that I don't like mentioning. (Or was it because of his eyebrows?)

I insisted Alfred the other day that I wanted to go to the library to check out "magic" books but Alfred also insisted that "magic" is not real. What a coward.

Also on that day at break we saw this long blonde haired idiot. His name was Francis Bonnefoy and he brags to the other not-so-good-looking kids that his hair is more silkier and his clothes are more "beautiful" than theirs. He was also French.

He was 2 years older and he was already growing a beard... strangely...

We saw some _very_ pretty girls who were from Hungary, Belgium, etc.

Francis and that Gilbert guy I met on the first day of school started flirting with them and the Hungarian girl whacked both in the head with a frying pan. The Belgian girl got mad at her brother who always smoked, so she tried to make it fair by smoking also. Yeah, she failed and embarrassed herself in front of the Spanish guy she has a crush on. I think his name was Antonio..

This is like some international school, I have no idea. I saw some Polish guy who was wearing a pink dress. Yes, Polish **GUY**.

There was a Chinese boy (or a girl I can't tell) and a Japanese boy. They were both trading off food, costumes, magazines, and teacups, etc.

I wonder. Why aren't there any Russian boys/girls here? I've seen Russian girls who were usually named Yana, Anya, Ivana, Karina, etc. but why aren't there any boys?

Did they like, ban Russian boys at this school-?

_-Flashback-_

_Arthur was eight years old. He sat there on the grass eating his lunch alone. He usually was alone and didn't have a problem with it anyways._

_He then saw the large Russian boy. He was holding a sunflower and giggling, and some kids ran away again._

_Arthur sat there, dumbstruck. 'Was he always like thi- NO HE WASN'T!'_

_Ivan Braginski then sat on the grass and took out a bottle of vodka and a container with pirozhki and pelmeni** and took a bite out of the pirozhki. He then looked at me and told me to come near him. I shook my head, and he went all "I'm going to take your guts out if you don't come here" on his face. So I obeyed him and got my stuff. I then sat next to him, scooting a little bit away from him._

_"Do you like your... coals?" Ivan asks Arthur._

_Arthur looked at him madly. "They're scones!"_

_"Haha... you're funny," Ivan said and smiled._

_"No I'm not, I'm seriou-," Arthur was interuppted by a yell._

_"HEY YOU! COME OVER HERE!" a voice said and Arthur looked at the person._

_The person was pointing at Ivan, so Ivan stood up, and left his food there. He quickly ran back to grab his vodka and ran back._

_"__Да__?" Ivan asked the man._

_"You're going up to the office," the man said. Apparently he was not scared of Ivan, but the man was rather muscular, so..._

_"Okay..," Ivan said and followed the man while skipping with the vodka in his hand._

_"Okay... bye," Arthur said quietly._

**[ Flashback - Ivan Braginski's Point of View ]**

_The man was bringing me to a building. Not any kind of building, it's the school's front office. Did I do something wrong?_

_Anyways, the man led me to the principal of the school, seriously, did I do something wrong or not?!_

_The office looked normal, but it had loads of Italian and Scandinavian furniture, which was very beautiful by the way._

_The man walked to the principal's office, gave me a stern look and left me in there. No was in there, happily. I remembered by bottle of vodka and opened it. I started drinking it, even though some spilled onto my coat. People wonder why I have a coat when it's summer. I don't answer but look at them._

_I look at them to death._

_But I don't understand, why do kids run away from me? Am I scary? Am I scary because of my size? I don't understand..._

_I tried to shed my tears when I realized the real reason why no one likes me. Everyone seems to be scared of me because I threaten them..._

_Well I'm sorry for that! I'm very sorry... __прости меня пожалуйста__**__ ..._

_Sadly, I could not hold all of the tears. I burst into tears and fell to the ground. I rubbed my puffy red eyes and grabbed my vodka. I hugged it and some spilled again since I forgot to close it._

_"Forgive me... all of you please...," I muttered to my self._

_The principal then walked in and saw me crying. She comforted me by hugging me (she was not afraid of me at all much) and set me down in a seat in front of her desk._

_"Ivan Braginski?" She asked._

_"Yes?" I answered._

_"I have very bad news for you," She replied, and I wiped away a tear._

_"So.. what is it?" I asked, still holding onto my vodka._

_"I am afraid to say, but you are being expelled." _

_I thought of the last words she said. "You are being expelled."_

_"Being Expelled."_

_"Expelled."_

_"__**EXPELLED**_."

_I stared at her blanky. "W-what?"_

_"I am sorry to say, but you are being expelled. Final decision." She repeated._

_The sad look in my eyes was pretty noticable by her. "W-why?"_

_"I interviewed with some children the other day and they say you are purposely trying to kill them," The principal said. "Is this true?"_

_My sad look was even more noticable. "Nyet. No. I would never do that."_

_"I even interviewed some of your teachers. They say you make them faint with your death stare," She said._

_"But I would-," I was then interrupted by her._

_"I am very sorry Mr. Braginski. Please get your stuff from your classrooms and I was call your sister to pick you up," She said, with a stern yet sad look._

_"Please, Ms., I can explain-," I was interrupted again._

_"I am sorry, Mr. Braginski. But this decision is final." She made her last reply until she went back to doing paperwork._

_I nodded, some tears falling to my cheeks. I walked away and then out the office. I was so confused, I was so mad, I was so devastated._

_I also could not hold in all my emotions, so I grabbed my steel pipe and slashed the window. Some pieces fell on my face, arms, and legs and started bleeding, but I did not care. I deserved it. Some administrators were frightened, and I looked them in the eye. I then ran away, not caring even if my sister Katyusha tries to find me._

_I deserved it anyway. I wasn't even able to know the kid I, now, once loved, Arthur Kirkland._

_-End of Flashback-_

**[ Arthur Kirkland's Point of View ]**

Now I remember. No Russian boys never came to this school because they were too afraid to get expelled. But I'm not sure that will happen if they act nice.

Ivan Braginski was a scary guy though. I don't know why he acted like this, he just did. Or was that how all Russian males acted like? I don't want to start stereotypes here, I'm just wondering..

I was thinking if I should ask Alfred to come over. I don't know if my parents or his would say yes but it's worth a try.

I was then looking around the school grounds for him. I guessed he was in the library because there were a lot of comic books there and he would get a new one if he finished his first.

I entered the library. It was rather quiet, but little whispers. Some kids looked at me or laughed. One even pointed at my forehead- HEY! NOT FUNNY!

Anyways, I found Alfred in the comic section. Of course he was reading comics-

Wait. He's not reading comics.

He's doing homework, surprisingly because he complained to me that homework was "dumb" and "what's the point of it, I already know stuff!" and other things. I was at the corner of one of the shelves and looked over to what kind of homework. I can see it was math, and he was doing dividing and multiplying fractions. That was so easy! I don't understand how he doesn't know that stuff-

I mean-! Sorry. I'm just good at math that I had to say that. Moving on...

Alfred was good at social studies the best. Especially American history. Well, he's from America, and he told me last year he learned about the Revolutionary War and how his country is boss and we British people are wimps. I argued again that this was untrue, and all countries have strengths and weaknesses, but he got mad again. We make up pretty quickly.

Why am I waiting here? I should be asking!

I got out of the corner and sat next to him. "Hey.."

"Hey," Alfred said while writing something down in his notebook."

"What'cha doing?" I asked. Am I starting to act American?

"Homework. What are you doing? Staring at me?" Alfred asked and I turned a deep shade of red and shook my head.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" I asked and poked the back of Alfred's head. I then noticed a weird curl on the side.

"Sure, and don't poke me," he replied and looked at me.

"Can you go to.. my house?" I asked. I didn't know what else to say, okay!

"Go to... your house?" Alfred repeated and I nodded.

"Uh.. sure.. hang on," Alfred said and got his phone out of his pocket. He texted his parents asking if he was able to go to my house, surprisingly they said "yes".

"Yeah, I'll be able to go to your house," Alfred said. I was relieved.

"After school?" Arthur asked.

"Wanna walk home together?" Alfred asked, slightly turning pink.

"Uh, sure," Arthur said.

This was going to be the best day ever.

**Author's Note**

****Pelmeni - A Siberian/Russian dessert**

********прости меня пожалуйста**** - Please forgive me**

**Part two of the chapter will be up soon ))**


	7. Coming Over PART TWO

Chapter Six

**[ Author's Note ]**

**Part Two of Chapter Five! Here in this chapter we all know that Alfred is coming to Arthur's house, right? Remember that Arthur's parents were going to pick Arthur up today so they can also pick up Peter? Arthur will be in trouble, just saying. Also I will be historically incorrect again!**

[ Non- Journal - Alfred F. Jones's Point of View ]

Dude. I am so excited to go to his house! I thought he would never ask! It would be so cool if he had a treehouse, just like I did... before I moved away...

But I don't care anymore! I'm gonna hang out with him!

"Hey bro... where do you live?" I asked Arthur.

"You see the treehouse over there in the backyard? Yes, that's my house," Arthur replied, and I gazed at him. He does have a treehouse!

"Can we go in it when we get there?" Alfred asked, eager for Arthur to say "yes".

"Can't," Arthur replied, and my heart fell out of my chest. "WHY?!"

"Well," Arthur said, slightly turning red. "It-it-it's s-secret h-hiding place."

"Cool!" I gazed at him again. "Can I join your mission or something?!"

"Okay, fine," Arthur said, sighing, and I hugged him very tightly.

"Thank you!" I yelled, and some teenager whacked me in the head with a plastic bullet.

"Gay!" The redhead boy said, and threw another one at me.

Arthur then looked at the boy and then was wide-eyed.

"Artie, is there something wrong?" I asked him.

"Yes there is, and don't call me Artie!" Arthur replied, turning red again. He then grabbed my arm and ran the rest of the way to his house, and then to his backyard. Then to his treehouse.

Arthur left his backpack on his back porch and he slapped me in the back and told me to put my backpack there too. I obeyed him and he told me to climb the tree and up to the treehouse.

Strangely the red-headed boy was in his backyard. I wonder if he was related to Arthur... but that would not be true! They look completely different.

"HEY!" The red-headed boy yelled. "Take this!" Then he shot a plastic bullet out of his plastic gun and shot Arthur in the back, and then his bottom.

"Ow!" Arthur said, and got inside with my help.

"Excuse me, but who the heck was that?!" I asked Arthur, and he sighed.

"He looks like my brother Scotland strangely," Arthur said, still panting.

"So that dude is your brother?" I was really confused.

"I said he looked like my brother," Arthur said. "Stupid."

I was then offended. "Hey! I'm not the one who got shot in the butt!"

"I'll shoot you in the butt later!" Arthur said, and we both started strangeling each other.

"Butthead!" I yelled at him.

"Fatarse!" He yelled back. I was still offended.

"I am way stronger than you!" I yelled back.

"No you- AREN'T! Arthur yelled back, but he didn't notice that he pushed me out the window. I was hanging off the ledge, and I started yelling for help.

Arthur "The strong one" then realized the incident I'm in right now. He started yelling for "Wales" and "Northern Ireland" and "Scotland" to help me, whoever they are, they have weird names.

Two boys appeared in the backyard, and one of them fainted and the other went below me with his arms to catch me. The last one was the boy who called us "gay" and he still had the plastic gun in his hand. He then shot a plastic bullet at my butt, and dang, did that hurt!

"Alfred!" Arthur yelled at me. "Let Ireland catch you!"

The guy putting his hands in the air was Northern Ireland, I believe. His hair was covering his face so I didn't see what he looked like.

The tree was very tall, and sad to say that I'm scared of heights. So then I removed one of my hands from the ledge, and then the other, and I fell really slowly, waiting for myself to miss his hands.

[ Non- Journal - Arthur Kirkland's Point of View ]

Technically this incident was my fault. I mean, I'm serious! I'm really afraid that Alfred will miss his hands and then he breaks his-

NO NO NO! I don't wanna think negative! But it is so tempting...

STOP IT ARTHUR JAMES KIRKLAND! YOU ARE RUINING YOUR OWN THINKING TIME!

Anyways, I didn't know Ireland was nice enough to help catch Alfred. If Scot caught him, Alfred would be dead at this point.

I'm just waiting here until he misses or doesn't. Trying my hardest to not think about what Alfred will look like when he falls and misses.

[ Non- Journal - Alfred F. Jones ]

Waiting to miss.. waiting to miss... and now I fa-

I feel arms around me. What is happening?! Is someone gay and wants me?!

Oh. It's Ireland. Arthur's brother. Still wondering why they can't have proper names.

"Uh, hi Ire," I said, staring at his eyes.

"Don't call me that," Ireland said, and dropped me on the ground.

"Alfred!" Arthur said, climbing down the tree and lifting me up. "Are you okay, hurt, anything?!"

"Dude," I stared at Arthur. "I'm fine. Stop acting like my mom."

"So Arthur strips and pole-dances?" Scotland said, smirking.

I glared at Scotland. "My mom is not a stripper, you souless ginger."

"OH YOU ARE SO FUCKING GOING DOWN YOU SON OF A STRIPPING BITCH!" Scotland yelled, and got a rake and attempted to attack me with it, but Ireland protected me and instead Scotland hit Ireland in the face. His face was covered in four scratches from the rake, and Wales managed to get up and help him.

Maybe today can't be that bad, right?


End file.
